


Baby Come On Home

by ElizaG



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean, Gen, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, winchester progney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaG/pseuds/ElizaG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternative start to Season 10.</p><p>Sam heard Dean before he saw him. At first it didn't register what Dean was saying, the words lost under the relief that Dean was alive and talking. “Sammy? No, too easy.”</p><p>Thank God. Sam thought. He's not dead, I was wrong.</p><p>It wasn't until Sam called Dean's name and Dean turned to look at him with tar black eyes that Sam registered what Dean had said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Since We've Been Apart

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the end of Season 9 and is totally untrue to any of Season 10. This was originally part of a much larger piece, but the earlier parts needed a lot of work and have all been scrapped for parts for other projects. I really love Demon!Dean, so I figured I'd put this out there.

Sam heard Dean before he saw him. At first it didn't register what Dean was saying, the words lost under the relief that Dean was alive and talking.

“Sammy? No, too easy.”

_Thank God._ Sam thought. _He's not dead, I was wrong_ .

It wasn't until Sam called Dean's name and Dean turned to look at him with tar black eyes that Sam registered what Dean had said.

“See?” Dean turned back to Crowley. “Just existing will torment Sammy. I've got scores to settle in Hell before dealing with such low hanging fruit as Sam.”

Crowley watched Sam, poorly concealed disappointment souring his gaze. Dean disappeared. Crowley threw Sam a shit-eating grin and followed.

**********

Sam walked up the concrete walkway to an inordinately ordinary middle class home. The walls were white. The lawn was manicured, the trees all shaped with nary a stray stick in sight. The flowers, neatly planted in front of the porch, were all in bloom. There were no shutters, but if there had been they'd have been blue. Or possibly green, like something out of Anne of Green Gables.

There was absolutely nothing out of place. It made the hair on the back of Sam's neck stand up.

The first hint that all wasn't as banal as it appeared was the demon trap in the doorway. Only half of it was visible from outside, the remainder extended into the small foyer. It was made of white jade inlaid in the worn wooden planks of the porch. The uninitiated would just think it some quirky design the builder used to give the place personality. Sam knew better.

The protections didn't stop at the doorway. The strange, murky white windowsills were a salt composite with a hidden strip of iron to keep out ghosts, demons, and other supernatural monsters. There were sigils and wardings worked into interior decorating. The list went on, the product of years of brainstorming and careful testing.

Sam rang the bell, but it was one of those ones that couldn't be heard from the entryway, so Sam wasn't sure it had actually worked. When there was no response, he knocked. It was a big house, so he knocked loudly. Besides which, he was impatient.

Sam had spent months trying to track down Dean. But Dean didn't want to be found and now that he was a demon, he didn't just have the mortal realm to hide in. If their conversation after Dean came back from the dead were any indication, he had all of Hell open to him as well. Sam hadn't found a summoning spell that worked on Dean, and Crowley must have found a way to block his, because when Sam summoned him, nothing happened. Hunting down other demons had produced less than satisfactory results – wild goose chases and leads that turned to dust.

So here he was, intruding on the safe haven of a hunter he hadn't seen in nearly a year. But this hunter focused almost exclusively on demons. If there was any new information he hadn't been able to dig up, it would be here. If the woman would have just answered her phone he wouldn't have had to show up unannounced or waste his time driving out to see her.

He knocked again and called out, “C'mon, Vic. I know you're in there.” He hoped she was in there. For all he knew she was out buying groceries. “Vic?” Sam knocked again. At this point, other people probably would have called it banging.

He heard a window open above him.

“Keep it down, Winchester. You get any louder and the neighbors'll call the cops.”

Sam came off the porch and looked up at her. She had her elbows on the sill and all he could see was her head. Her cheeks were rounder than he remembered. Her skin held the same healthy tan as always from hours out in the sun.

“I need your help,” he said.

“I'm on hiatus,” she called back. “Let's call it a vacation. Or staycation if you will. Go get Dean. Or that angel that follows you guys around.”

“Cas,” Sam corrected. He looked over his shoulder at the other disturbingly normal homes. There was no one visible, but talking of angels and demons wasn't the kind of conversation he felt comfortable having in the middle of the yard, yelling up to a second story window. You never knew when the neighborhood busybody was watching you from behind some curtain.

“I know,” Victoria replied dryly. “He lived here for a while when he was mortal, remember?”

When Sam turned his attention back to her, she looked exasperated and annoyed. He hadn't expected her to roll out the red carpet when he showed up on her doorstep, but he thought she'd open the door at the very least. If they were going to have any semblance of a real conversation, he needed to get invited into the house. “Dean _is_ the problem,” he said.

Even standing on the front lawn Sam could see the color drain from her face. Hunters didn't get into the life without knowing the life expectancy attached to their profession. But her voice was matter of fact. “Dead?”

“Technically, yes,” Sam hedged with another quick look at the neighboring houses. Sam was done with it. All of it. Demon possessions, angel possessions, ghosts, ghouls, monsters. Heaven, Hell. He was getting his brother back and nothing was going to stop him. “But not exactly.”

Victoria rolled her eyes, color creeping back to normal. “Of course,” she muttered. “A Winchester can't simply _die_. He has to complicate even that.” She disappeared back into the house and shut the window. Sam wasn't sure if that was the end of the interview or if she was coming down to let him in, so he walked back up the porch steps and waited.

The door cracked open. Victoria peered out at him, the security chain stretched across the opening. “What do you mean 'not exactly'? And why do you need me?”

“C'mon, Vic. Let me in.”

She sighed. It was a very irritated sound and she obviously wanted Sam to hear it. “When we fix whatever is wrong with Dean, what you see here stays here. Understand? Dean is to know nothing about me.”

Sam nodded hastily. He couldn't think of a single reason Dean would want an update on Victoria other than if she had info for a job they were on or if she were available for a roll in the sack. The door swung shut and the chain rattled.

Sam was through the door as fast as it swiveled on its hinges. Just as he crossed the threshold a dog lunged at him from the interior of the house, barking madly. Sam scrambled backwards, frantically pawing for his gun as jaws snapped shut where his shins had been.

“Stand down,” Victoria snapped. The brilliantly white monster of muscle and teeth stopped barking and sat as Victoria stepped around from behind the door.

“What is _that_?” Sam asked, heart pounding in his chest, gun trained on the growling animal.

“Mundane protection,” Victoria answered.

He was really starting to hate that dry tone of voice. Like she was stating the obvious and thought he was asking just to annoy her. She'd never used it before.

“Quiet,” she told the dog. “Friend.” The dog stopped growling. “Put that away,” she added to Sam. He glanced from the dog to her. No way he was taking his eyes from that vicious animal for more than a moment. But his gaze caught on Victoria. She was pregnant.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I thought you wanted to come in.”

“Right.” Sam looked back to the dog, who was eyeing him suspiciously, like Sam was the threat here. He edged in, keeping as much space between him and the dog as possible and tucking the gun back into his waist band.

The pregnancy would explain why she was acting strange. She and Dean usually hooked up when they worked a job together. Must be awkward to have your lover's brother show up when there was a new man in the picture. A man she was having kids with.

The front door opened into a small foyer with a staircase, which someone was descending. A small woman with lank hair that was more sandy than blond came into view. She looked familiar but Sam couldn't quite place her. Whatever reason he knew her was apparently not good because when she saw him her expression turned decidedly hostile. She stopped on the stairs, every muscle tense.

“Vic?” she asked. Her eyes flicked to Victoria. It was as if she were looking for direction, or a command.

“It's alright, Kate. This is Sam,” Victoria replied.

“I know.” Kate shot him another angry look. Unless Sam was mistaken, there was also pain and fear buried under all that anger. “I was hoping I wouldn't see him again.”

“You knew when you came that his brother was the father.”

Sam's stomach dropped out. _His brother was the father._

“Neither of whom we were expecting to see,” Kate added. Despite his churning thoughts, Sam's brain continued to feed him information. The two women had known each other a while now. The argument had that established quality that only developed with close contact. “Isn't that why I'm here?” Sam'd had that kind of relationship with his close friends at college and more recently with hunters he trusted his life to.

“The father?” Sam croaked. He knew there was a stupid look on his face, but he was having trouble wiping it off.

Victoria turned her attention back to him. He saw a flicker of pity when she took in his dumbfounded expression. “Who is apparently technically dead.”

“Dean?” he clarified, still not able to wrap his brain around it. Dean never wanted kids. Went to extreme lengths to avoid conception. He did everything. Everything except celibacy that is. Which would probably look like a pretty good option once he found out this.

Assuming Dean was himself when he found out.

Victoria rolled her eyes. “No, Santa Claus.”

Sam wasn't sure he liked super-sarcastic Victoria. “Since when?” He winced. It was pretty obvious when, probably around eight months ago.

“Since that time Dean and I shacked up at the Bunker and made you uncomfortable all weekend. Where is he?”

Sam looked to Kate. Her face was set and she offered no clues. He wasn't sure what else he could say, so he answered. “Hell.”

She scrubbed her hand across her forehead. “Well, since the two of you tend to end up in Heaven when you're not making deals or jumping bodily into the Pit, what deal did he make this time?”

Sam's eyes drifted to her abdomen. “It's a long story, maybe we should sit.”

“Five minutes and you're already fussing,” she grumbled. “This is exactly why I didn't tell either of you.” But she led him deeper into the house, a hand pressed to her back.

**********

Sam and Victoria were settled in the office. There were books spread out on the desk in front of Sam and the coffee table where Victoria had her feet propped up.

Sam was impressed with her collection of reference material. It was better than Bobby's had been. Bobby'd had years and a long, storied career in which to amass his collection, but Victoria had the same kind of academic leaning as Sam. She also had the money to fund that particular leaning.

“You headed back to the Bunker soon for that list of books we want?” she asked.

Victoria had a good collection, but nowhere near as good as the Bunker. “Unless you've found something in the last batch, then yeah.”

“I got nothing.” Victoria dropped her head against the back of the couch. She raised a hand to her forehead and massaged her temples. “We've looked at so many books I feel like I'm going cross-eyed.”

Sam grunted agreement.

“You know what we need?” Victoria dropped her hand and rolled her head to catch Sam from the corner of her eye. “Someone with an eidetic memory.”

Sam finished the paragraph he was skimming then gave her his full attention. “A what?”

“Eidetic. A photographic memory. Then we'd only ever need to read these things once and it would all be stored up here.” She tapped her temple and smiled.

Sam grinned tiredly back at her. He'd tried talking her into going to the Bunker with him when he found out she was carrying the next generation of Winchester, reasoning that it was the safest place for her. Victoria refused. She had the house set up the way she liked. Neither angels nor demons nor ghosts could get in. She had Misty the dog for mundane protection and Kate the werewolf for supernatural protection.

His options had been to either bodily remove her, which, assuming he could even physically overcome her, was a non-option with Kate added to the picture, or he could leave her there. His conscience wouldn't let him abandon Dean's child to its fate. Not when every evil thing they'd ever known about had an ax to grind with the Winchesters. Then of course there were the angels. They didn't exactly count as evil, but their hostility increased with every interaction. So he stayed.

It was turning out to be a mutually beneficial arrangement. Victoria did indeed know a few things Sam didn't and she had an extensive network of hunters working for her under the pretense of an insurance adjusting firm. Now when Sam had a lead, Victoria made a phone call and they had an answer within a few hours. He didn't have to spend days on the road only to find a dead end. Unfortunately, all that added up to were more options ruled out instead of answers.

He and Kate had moved around each other warily at first, like two alpha dogs claiming the same territory. Kate continued to keep the promise she made him and Dean nearly two years ago and only fed on animals. So they kept the peace.

Sam removed Victoria's address from the public record. He needed to find Dean, but didn't want to risk the demon finding the baby of the man. He had killed the monster spawn that claimed to be Dean's child several years ago, but Sam remembered how it tore Dean up inside. When Dean came back to himself, he'd never forgive Sam if he didn't do everything in his power to protect this child. There was only so much Sam could do about non-public records, Victoria had a business to run and had to get paid.

Victoria spread the word among her network that her location was to remain private. At Sam's insistence, she added that Dean knew how to contact her and anyone claiming to be Dean was not what it appeared. The hunters, being familiar with shifters, ghouls and other imitators, didn't question it.

Sam and Victoria quickly settled into a retinue. She spent time running her business every day, then joined Sam in the search through musty old books and records for answers on how to fix Dean. Kate helped with the business and ran errands. She was the only one they could guarantee wasn't being looked for by their enemies.

They'd been at it for nearly two week. Sam was pretty sure he could reverse the demon part of Dean's predicament with the same cure he'd used on Crowley, but they still had no idea how, or if, that would effect the Mark of Cain. What they really needed was to find the original Cain and ask some questions.

When Dean and Crowley visited Cain, Sam and Castiel were trying to track down Ezekiel. Dean hadn't told Sam how they'd found the man, only that he was at some farm with bees. Through extensive leg work on Sam's part, and a minor miracle, he'd managed to track down the farm. But Cain was no longer there. So they searched for the method Dean and Crowley had used to locate Cain in the first place.

It wasn't going well.

“If we could just bring him back from Hell,” Sam started for the hundredth time.

Victoria snorted. “And do what? Turn a kill happy Winchester loose on the population? Let him bother the denizens of Hell while we figure out the Mark.” She dropped her book on the coffee table with a thunk. “I can't see straight, I'm done with this for the night,” she declared. She struggled to her feet, using her arms to push herself off the couch.

He listened to her shuffle around the kitchen as he continued skimming the book. The popcorn maker whirled to life and soon he could hear the popcorn popping, the smell wafting in soon after. Sam read the same page three times without taking in the meaning before knuckling his eyes and deciding Victoria had the right idea. He'd make more progress if he took a short break and came back with a fresh mind.

He found her sprawled on the couch in the living room. She scrolled through Netflix before settling on The Walking Dead. She lifted her legs to make room for Sam. He settled on the opposite side of the couch. She extended her legs back out and into his lap.

He searched for an appropriate place for his hands, not quite sure what the correct protocol was for physical contact with the soon-to-be mother of his brother's child. He quickly abandoned that line of thinking as useless and settled his hands on her feet. She was always complaining how much they hurt.

Victoria let out something between a grunt and a moan as his fingers pressed into the muscles of her feet. A quick glance to see if he'd hurt her showed her face slack and her eyes shut. “Don't stop,” she mumbled.

Sam quickly repressed his smile. At least he was useful to somebody.

They made it through several episodes before they started throwing popcorn at the screen and booing at the characters' lack of survival skills. The ribbing had started almost immediately though.

“He should look for guns first,” Sam said as Rick headed for his house.

“He doesn't know what's going on,” Victoria pointed out. “Give him a second to catch up with the zombie aspect.”

Once the popcorn was flying though, they degenerated into a debate on the best way to kill The Walking Dead zombies.

“Guns obviously,” Sam said.

“The show says they ran out of bullets. Don't forget your lore,” Victoria teased.

Sam tossed his head, sweeping a stray lock behind his ear. “So make more. It's not like it's impossible. People have been making bullets for over a hundred years.”

“Still too slow, especially with the mobs,” Victoria argued. “I say use the Native American buffalo hunting technique and run them off a cliff. That should slow them down enough for an easy kill at the bottom.”

“They're pretty slow to start with,” Sam protested. Then he couldn't help but wonder how Dean would do it.

Victoria threw more popcorn at the screen. “Didn't you learn the value of stripping cars in the last episode?? Man up.” When Sam remained silent she cast a quick look his way. Apparently his mood was written all over his face. “What's wrong?”

He flashed her a lopsided grin and shook his head.  _Nothing,_ but what came out was “Dean would love an argument like this.” He tucked his hair behind his ear again. There wasn't a reason to do it this time, it just gave him something to do.

Victoria sat up. Her movements were no longer powerfully graceful the way they'd been before she'd gotten pregnant. Her center of balance had shifted and she was having trouble adjusting.

“We'll get him back,” Victoria said.

Sam nodded, but kept his eyes on his hands.

Victoria's hand slid into his field of view and covered one of his hands. He looked up and met her eye. “We will.” There was no room for doubt in her voice.

They flipped off the TV and went back to their research.

 


	2. Cold Black As Night

Victoria's cursing pulled Sam from the office. Her tone told him she was unhurt and in no immediate danger, but pissed as all get out. He followed the sound of her voice up the stairs. The house was rather cramped with three adults and a pending newborn. Victoria and Kate each got a room with a bed. There was a third room, but Sam took up residence on the couch to make sure the room was ready for the baby.

He found her in the baby's room. Pre-cut wooden parts were scattered around, packets of screws lay at her feet, and she had a screwdriver tucked under her arm. She cursed again as her belly knocked over the piece she was working on. He was pretty sure she was close to throwing things. Or crying. Possibly both.

From what he'd pieced together about pregnant woman, mostly through internet searches, Victoria was doing pretty good at keeping the mood swings in check. But every now and then it looked like she'd lost her mind, or turned into some inconsolable, weepy creature. It was at times like that Sam thanked his lucky stars that he was a man.

He moved into the room and his massive hand closed over the offending piece before she could chuck it through the window. “Let me do that.”

Victoria jerked the piece away. “I can do it!” she retorted hotly.

“Of course you can,” Sam kept his tone even and calm. He closed his hand back over hers and waited.

She kept her eyes averted and dashed a tear from her cheek before giving in. “Fine,” she conceded. “You can help.”

Sam barely managed to suppress his grin before she looked back at him, defiance in her eyes. “Thank you.” He wasn't quite sure how he managed it, but he sounded sincere.

He glanced at the directions. Victoria already had everything laid out in order, all he had to do was follow the pictures. Victoria handed him pieces as he needed them and helped hold things while he screwed them together.

“Cas called,” Sam said, trying to distract her. “The angels know about the baby.”

Victoria took a deep breath through her nose and let it out, releasing some of the anger from her fight with the crib. “Good thing I've got the angel warding. Guess I won't be going outside anymore.”

Sam chuckled, she wouldn't let piddly angels change her habits. “You haven't left the house in weeks.”

Victoria pointed the next piece at him. “Yeah, and I'm obviously going stir-crazy cooped up in this damn house hiding from angels and demons and whatever else could be looking for me.”

“I told you I can make a hex bag to hide you from all that.” Sam knew she wasn't really interested in leaving the house, she was just being difficult. To be honest, he preferred her not leaving the house. No use asking for trouble.

“I'd rather have Enochian symbols carved into my ribcage,” she grumbled.

“We could call Cas. He's probably still got the juice for something like that,” he offered.

Sam was pretty impressed with her control. If she was fighting the same kind of unreasonable anger that occasionally overcame him, she was making a valiant go of it. Though, in Sam's case, no one could make him that angry except Dean.

“Because Cas is so subtle,” she scoffed. “The angels would probably follow him right to the house.”

Sam changed the subject. “We need to try the new summoning spell for Crowley,” he said, figuring now was as good a time as any to have this discussion.

“We already agreed, no summoning demons in the house until after the baby.”

Sam nodded absently. Two days ago they'd found a new spell to summon Crowley. The goal was to establish how they could find Cain. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea to agree not to summon the demon responsible for Dean's transformation until after the baby was born. But Sam had been thinking, and he didn't like the idea of summoning Crowley with a newborn in the house any better.

“I was thinking I'd go do it at the Bunker.” Sam caught a nodding motion from the corner of his eye. “Get our answers and still keep you and the bab-” He heard Victoria sniffle. He turned in time to see her move away. She was hiding her face from him. Maybe this wasn't such a good time to have this conversation.

“Yeah, Sam.” She paused in the doorway with her back to him, taping at the frame. “Good idea.”

He put down the section he was working on, but hesitated. He wasn't sure if he should approach her. In this particular mood she'd either push him away and be pissed at her weakness, or she'd fold herself into his arms.

He waited to see which way the pendulum swung.

She swiped at her face and straightened her shoulders. When she turned to him, he could see just a hint of tears in her eyes.

“Go get your answers,” she said. But she blinked and another fat tear rolled down her cheek. He could only imagine Dean in this situation. He'd probably come running to Sam, panic in every line of his body –  _Sammy, I have no idea what happened, make it stop._

“Vic, what's the matter?” Sam stood, but didn't close the distance between them.

Victoria shook her head, as if to deny any problem, but more tears escaped. “I'm only about a week out. The midwife is on speed dial-” Her voice hitched, as if her throat had closed around the last word. She hugged her arms around herself. “I didn't want you here, not when you first showed up. But-” She was now fighting the tears too hard to continue. Sam held his arms out. Victoria moved into them and let him engulf her in his embrace.

He rested his jaw on top of her head. She was so strong and self-sufficient that he sometimes forgot how vulnerable she was right now. He had to protect her. Had to keep her and the baby safe for Dean. If he didn't manage to get Dean back, they were the only living remnants he'd have of his big brother. He didn't even know how to summon Dean to try any of the theories they'd accumulated. It could wait a little longer, he had more research to do.

“It's okay, Vic,” Sam said softly. At some point over the last two weeks, Sam had realized Victoria was different from him and Dean. He and Dean were weapons. They could kill and they could exact revenge. Victoria was a shield. She could be used as a weapon, but her main purpose was to protect. She was the key. If he could keep her alive, the next Winchester wouldn't turn out like Sam and Dean. “I won't go anywhere.”

**************

Victoria left Sam to finish the crib on his own. She knew she was getting in the way, she just had to swallow her pride and admit it. Which was made infinitely easier by a bout of crying. How much pride could she really have left after a break down?

She missed Dean with a deep ache that couldn't be eased away. She missed being able to fight with him. Fighting with Sam was all logic and reason. She trusted Sam with her life, but they still tiptoed around each other. It was like they were afraid of hurting each other's feelings, or damaging the other person's pride.

Fighting with Dean was like lighting oil on fire. She didn't have to tiptoe around anything with him. She'd shared the darkest parts of her with him and he hadn't turned away. She trusted him with her life sure, but she also trusted him with her insecurities and deep-seated fears.

She filled a watering can in the kitchen and headed for the porch, the sunshine would do her good. She opened the door and Dean stood there, as if her wandering thoughts had summoned him.

He stared back at her in surprise, as if this was his house and she was the one that was intruding. He stood just outside the Devil's Trap. “Victoria.” He smiled a welcome. “I was just trying to figure out how to ring the bell.”

Victoria looked at the doorbell as if she'd never seen it before. To push it, Dean would have to reach into the Devil's Trap.

“I was thinking a stick,” Dean mused. He looked exactly the way she remembered. Same self-possessed posture, same bow-legs, same cocky tilt of the head, same yellow-green eyes. His pupils seeped out, filling his eyes like black mercury. “Or maybe one of your neighbors could be forced into it.”

“What do you want?” Victoria demanded from the thing before her.

“Couldn't find my brother,” he said dismissively, as if it were a mild nuisance. He blinked, and his eyes returned to their normal color. “Thought I'd drop in on some of our old hunting buddies.”

“Can't find little Sammy? Whatever will you do?” Her voice dripped with insincerity.

“His time will come.” Dean crowded the line of the Devil's Trap. “This is much more entertaining.” His gaze dropped to her abdomen. “Bun in the oven?” He licked his lips. “How delicious.” Victoria couldn't tell if he were referring to the situation, or was actually threatening to eat the baby.

Sam came from behind her and shouldered her out of the way. Dean's face lit up.

“Sammy! Never thought I'd find you here.” His voice was happy, almost jubilant. It was so incongruous, the switch from baby eater to joyous brotherly reunion.

Sam's knuckles blanched white where he held the door.

“Setting up house I see.” Dean peered at Victoria where she stood in the shadows, then shifted back to Sam. “From the looks of it, you were fucking her before I even died. Nailing my discards, how uncharacteristic.” Another dazzling smile. “I might be able to make a man out of you yet.”

Victoria studied the rigid set of Sam's shoulders.

Dean adopted a stage whisper and partly shielded his mouth with the back of his hand. “You should know, shacking up with a slut I used to fuck doesn't really phase me.” The inky blackness seeped across his eyes again and his voice returned to normal. “Perk of being a demon.” Dean frowned at Sam. “I have to tell you though Sammy, you can do better than my rejects.”

It was becoming apparent to Victoria that Sam was preparing to deny the demon's accusations. “Samuel Winchester, you tell him and I will kill you myself.”

Dean shuffled around the Devil's Trap, angling for a better view of Victoria, his interest obviously piqued. “Tell me what?”

Victoria looked it in the eye, back to a gold-flecked green. She remembered those eyes as he'd looked down at her and told her she was beautiful, the brief season they'd fancied themselves in love.

“Tell me what?” Dean turned his attention back to Sam. Pain swept through Victoria's body, her knees nearly buckling under the weight of it. “You know you can't keep a secret from your big brother, Sammy,” Dean wheedled.

They hadn't known when Dean would finish his business in Hell. Had done everything in their power to make sure he couldn't find them until they were ready to be found. Victoria had suspected he would turn up at the worst time. She managed to stand straight, despite the pain. “Dean,” she stated, stepping between the brothers and taking back control of the door. “Your timing is impeccable as always.” She shut the door in his face.

She leaned her head against the door, hand pressed to her belly, waiting for the contraction to pass. It was blessedly brief. For now. She turned to Sam. “We have to get rid of him,” she said.

Sam was obviously distracted by his brother's presence. “How?”

She grunted in annoyance and pulled out her cell. “Shoot him in the face with rock salt for all I care.”

Sam finally focused on Victoria when she started talking to the mid-wife.

“Little complication here,” Victoria told the woman on the other end of the line. “Head over, but we're going to have to figure out how to get you in the door.”

Sam took in the hand pressed to Victoria's belly, the liquid slipping down her thighs, and the phone conversation. She saw comprehension dawn on him.

**********

“You can't hide in there forever, Sammy,” Dean called from outside the house. He paused as Victoria moaned, weathering another contraction. “Sounds like Vic'll have to come out sooner rather than later.”

“Once we get the mid-wife in we're going to be stuck in here,” Sam said. He eyed Victoria's hunched posture worriedly.

“It'll be fine Sam. Woman have been giving birth since the dawn of man.”

“Ha ha,” Sam laughed nervously. “Dawn of man.”

“If worst comes to worst, just catch the baby when she pops out.” Victoria pulled aside the curtain, looking for the sign that Sera was in place. “Don't drop her, she'll be slippery,” she added as an aside.

Sam groaned in disgust. “We'll just have to make sure the mid-wife gets in.” He looked out the adjoining window. “There's Cas.”

Cas had seen better days. He was dressed in the same trench coat, over-sized button down dress shirt, and slacks as always. Even from the house Sam could tell Cas's outfit could do with a wash. Cas's hair was more mussed than usual, it looked like he'd washed it the last time he'd washed his clothes.

Victoria left her post at the window and headed for the back door.

If Sam thought Cas looked bad when he first appeared, it was nothing to when he saw Dean. At the sight of the demon, Cas's shoulders stooped, a man already defeated and broken. “Dean,” Cas said.

Dean turned at the sound of Cas's voice. Sam couldn't see Dean's face, but he could imagine Dean's malicious grin from Cas's answering grimace. “Cas. Well, well. We've got ourselves quite a party. Got any angel juice left? Or are you here strictly as an observer?”

Cas continued his trek up the path and Dean watched him come. Cas stopped at the foot of the porch stairs. He and Dean contemplated each other silently.

Victoria's cursing drifted to Sam from the rear of the house. Before Sam could move from the window, she was back in the foyer.

“Well, angel,” Dean broken the stalemate between him and Cas. “You may have dragged me out of Hell, but I threw myself back in and now I'm King.” Cas looked like Dean had slapped him.

Crowley appeared around the side of the house with Sera, the mid-wife, in tow. Victoria threw the door open. Sam stepped forward and flanked her in the opening.

“Look what we have here,” Crowley drawled. “This looks important.”

Sam had the Knife of the Kurds in hand and was out on the porch, less than a pace from Dean, before he consciously ordered his body to move. “Crowley,” he growled. “We need her.”

Crowley pulled the woman closer, knife at her throat. “That much I gathered,” he said, watching Kate warily as she slunk around the side of the house toward Victoria and Sam. She was supposed to be the ace up their sleeve, slipping Sera in the back while Cas distracted Dean at the front of the house. Kate looked worse for wear, a bruise spreading across her jaw, but otherwise unharmed.

“I'll take care of Crowley,” Victoria muttered under her breath. “Be ready to grab Sera.” She headed into the house and down the basement stairs.

“Vic, wait,” Sam protested, but she was already gone. At least she was staying in the safety of the house.

Kate climbed the rail and slunk onto the porch. Dean allowed her to slide into the relative safety of Sam's shadow. She hovered between human and werewolf, the balance between forms wavering precariously. Dean kept an eye on her, but his body language and attention were fixed on Cas.

“You alright?” Sam asked Kate. She nodded in reply but stayed silent. “Sera, you alright?” he called.

“Nothing an ice pack and some time won't cure,” the mid-wife answered.

“I've been gentle so far, Moose.” He pressed the blade firmly against Sera's collarbone. “No guarantee it'll stay that way.”

Kate shifted further into her werewolf self. Sam worried that she'd shift too far to differentiate between friend and foe. But there was nothing he could do about it. He needed her as dangerous as possible, so he let it go. He leaned toward the werewolf. “Vic's working on something, be ready.” She growled in reply.

Dean turned to them at the sound of the growl. “Sammy...” He shook his head in mock disbelief. “The company you keep.” He smiled knowingly. “Werewolves and fallen angels today...” He descended the steps, his body lightly brushing Cas as he passed. “Lap dog of the King of Hell tomorrow.”

“Dean,” Cas murmured, reaching for the other man, but Dean was already out of reach. In a few short strides Dean was standing in front of Crowley and Sera. Dean's head tilted as he examined the mid-wife.

“How about we keep her?” Dean asked. He reached out and brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. She leaned as far away from him as she could, but Crowley presented a solid backstop. “Or take her with us when we go.”

“Dean, you don't have to do this.” Cas drifted toward Dean, like he was being dragged along by a slow and steady current. Cas had always been drawn to Dean. It was the one constant in their relationship, as inevitable as the ocean tides. “We can help you.”

Dean laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound. There'd been a time when Dean would laugh just because Sam asked him to. Those laughs were life-affirming and never failed to cheer him up. This laugh was tainted.

“Why would I want you to help me? I'm exactly what I'm supposed to be.” Dean advanced on the angel. Cas fell back before him.

“Oh,” Crowley commented mildly from behind Dean. “Bollocks.”

The bland delivery of the uniquely British explicative drew all attention to Crowley, who promptly disappeared.

**********

The smell of burning incense filled the room as Victoria finalized the spell to summon Crowley. Every time Vitoria summoned a demon, she couldn't help but think how incongruous it was that such a pleasant smell could result in something so vile.

Within moments Crowley appeared. As Victoria had planned, he very obligingly popped into the middle of the Devil's Trap. She hadn't taken the time to set up the interrogation chair. In her current condition, she wasn't sure she could overpower Crowley to get him into the chair anyway. So he was loose within the circle of the trap.

“Found a new summoning ritual I see. You all do pick the least opportune moments to call me,” Crowley said. “Victoria,” he greeted.

“Crowley,” she replied. She watched him take in her physical appearance. A smile flickered across his lips as he laughed at some internal joke before letting his features fall back into a bland mask. “Somethings different.” He held up a finger and looked away, pretending to think. “Can't quite put my finger...” He abandoned the mild expression, looked back at her and smiled out right. “Etcetera, etcetera.” He considered her, his gaze wandering over her body. She could almost see him dropping pieces into place and making assumptions.

“I was wondering what the hold up was. Now I know, Moose was distracted by his calf.”

As clever and conniving as he was, Crowley jumped to the same conclusions as Dean. She had to be very careful not to give him the right idea. Crowley wasn't invested in the situation the way Dean was. Given the barest hint, Crowley would figure out the truth.

**********

There was a moment of stillness after Crowley's sudden absence, as they all absorbed the situation. Then everyone moved. Cas grabbed Dean, throwing him enough off balance that he missed Sera as she sprinted past them for the house. Kate, with her werewolf enhanced speed, was off the porch, tackling Dean and Cas before Sam made it down the steps.

Sam left Dean to Kate and pulled Cas from the fray. He manhandled the angel into looking at him. “Go,” he told Cas.

“We have to help him,” Cas protested, his eyes fixed on Dean and Kate. The two rolled around on the ground, doing their best to rip each other apart.

“We will,” Sam said. “Cas.” He shook the angel. “You can't get into the house.” He faced Cas down the path away from the house and gave him a push. “Go.”

Cas reluctantly backed down the path, watching Dean with anguish.

Sam waded into the fight and came up with a fistful of Dean's collar. He yanked as hard as he could, managing to toss his brother a few short feet. Kate tried to follow, but Sam caught her around the waist and hauled her toward the house. Light as she was, Kate was now almost completely werewolf and very difficult to hold.

Dean stood and brushed himself off. He didn't follow, just watched their halting progress. “It's not over that easy, Sammy.”

Sam managed to get Kate up the steps. “With you it never is,” Sam retorted.

He got them into the house, but with the door shut and the enemy out of sight, Kate turned on him.


	3. Can You Break The Spell?

Victoria shuffled over to the interrogation chair along the wall and dropped gratefully into it. “If Dean is the King of Hell, what are you?” she asked.

“On holiday,” Crowley answered without missing a beat.

Victoria didn't bother hiding her chuckle. “Oh, yeah?”

“Dean's a wonderful tool. While he lasts.”

Victoria stretched her legs out in front of her, trying to ease the tension in her back as she considered his words. If Dean really was the King of Hell, she suspected things hadn't gone the way Crowley planned. But with Crowley you never knew. Besides which, he was good at improvising and coming out on top. “You planning on breaking your new toy?”

“Don't be absurd,” Crowley snorted. “Moose will find a way to save him. They always find a loop hole.” She couldn't tell if he wanted Sam and Dean to find a loop hole, or if he was just resigned to the inevitability of it.

“Where does that leave you?” she asked. Crowley wasn't like most demons. She'd been able to use her familiarity with demon behavior quite successfully against him in the past, but those were small victories. This time something that was actually important to her was at stake. This time Dean hung in the balance.

“Us, darling,” he purred. “We'll both be left in the cold once Sam gets Dean back.”

A smile quirked her lips. She knew where this was headed. It was a classic technique, and one of Crowley's favorites – turn your enemies against each other and let them do all the hard work. “Are you trying to recruit me, Crowley?” The implication that Sam would leave her once he had Dean back was an empty threat. Dean was the father, and they'd already gone their separate ways. Besides, with Dean a demon, Crowley wouldn't even have to try to turn them against each other. All he had to do was sit back and let Dean do his thing.

“No need,” he said dismissively, gesturing to her belly. “If that truly is a Winchester, you'll be begging to make a deal to save its life soon enough.”

He had a point. If there was one weakness the Winchesters shared, it was sacrificing everything for the ones they loved. Sam and Dean had both gotten away with it multiple times. From what she could piece together, John had done it once or twice. Then there was Mary. She made her deal and burned for it. “Or I'll go out like Mary and it'll be too late.” Victoria liked to think she'd have the guts to go down swinging like Mary. There was no way she'd survive the way the boys did. She just didn't have their kind of luck. Whether it was good or bad luck, she still hadn't decided.

Crowley shrugged. “Half dozen to one, etcetera etcetera.”

Then it hit her. The reason Crowley let Dean become the King of Hell. There were so many ways to exploit the Winchester weakness that Crowley could just wait the boys out. A contraction interrupted her train of though and Victoria curled around herself as the muscles of her middle twisted and contorted.

“I'm surprised you've lasted as long as you have.” Crowley watched her weather the contraction with mild disinterest. Through the haze of pain, she assumed he was referring to her survival, not the birth process. “How far apart are they now?” he asked, further confusing the subject.

“What do you care?” Victoria panted hostilely. She was getting really tired of this labor thing. And she was less than an hour in. Everything she read said she had at least five to seven more hours to look forward to.

Crowley shrugged. “I don't.”

Victoria lurched to her feet. The current contraction passed, but there was no way she could stay ahead of Crowley while dealing with contractions. It was time for a strategic retreat.

Crowley cleared his throat deliberately, halting her progress. “Holidays don't last forever.” He paused, obviously expecting his statement to get her attention. When she didn't leave he continued, “It's time to reclaim my crown and send the cavalry home.”

“I'm supposed to believe you're offering to help? Why? The warm fuzzy feeling it gives you?” she asked. There would be a catch to anything Crowley volunteered. He usually managed to work in a catch even when his hand was forced.

“We know each other better than that, darling.” He had that wheedling tone he used when talking some poor schmuck into selling her soul.

Victoria sighed in resignation. They both knew she wanted whatever information he could provide. “What sort of help do you have to offer?”

“A hint.” He stepped back, spreading his arms. “A trail even Moose can follow.”

Victoria was sure Sam was Crowley's favorite. She really didn't understand why he'd gone after Dean. “Sending us on a scavenger hunt?” she scoffed. “I don't need your help on this wild goose chase called finding Dean's cure.”

“You've got it all wrong.” Crowley widened his eyes in a parody of innocence. “I just want to help.”

Victoria rounded on him. She was tired of games. She needed to get upstairs and make sure Sam got Sera in the house. “Just tell me whatever it is you want me to know.”

“Where's the fun in that?”

Victoria reached for the door. She wouldn't actually leave without the information he was dangling before her. Well, she might. Let him sit and stew for a while. She did have other things to attended to. Like having a baby.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded. Victoria swallowed her sigh of relief, masking it by crossing her arms and tilting her head impatiently. “What do you know about our little field trip to see Cain?”

“I know you took Dean to a farm house.”

“I didn't take Dean. _Dean_ found Cain for _me_.”

Victoria was loosing her patience. The man really needed to get to the point. “And?”

“Tell Jolly Green. He'll know what to do.”

Victoria rolled her eyes and headed from the room. If Crowley wanted to get in good with Sam, his best option was to just save Dean himself. She paused with her hand on the knob. “Why not just fix Dean yourself?”

“You don't want that,” Crowley replied cryptically.

His overly dramatic reply restored some of her good humor. “No?”

“If I remove Dean as King, there'll be no loop hole to exploit. His demise will be as final as Abaddon's and Sammy will never see his big brother again.”

“Mmmmm,” she hummed in agreement. The rest of her response came out a little more sarcastic than intended. “Can't have that.” Whatever Crowley's plans, the boys would survive. No matter if it was due to luck, fate, or if God really did need them and have a plan, the brothers had an uncanny habit of surviving. Besides which, Crowley would get bored without them and he knew it.

Crowley let out a belly laugh. “Couldn't have the one so now you want to keep the other all to yourself?”

The implication surprised her. She was sure it showed on her face, but couldn't suppress it fast enough. She just hoped he interpreted it as her being shocked he'd guessed 'true' her motives.

Keeping Sam at the expense of Dean was a possibility that hadn't even occurred to her. But with the assumptions she'd let Crowley draw about her, Sam, and the baby, she could see how he came to the conclusion.

Crowley leaned as far forward as the Devil's Trap would let him. “Let me out,” he said conspiratorially. “I'd _love_ to help with that.”

Victoria bet he would. She shook her head and opened the door. “I'll manage just fine.”

**********

Sam had kept hold of Kate when he closed the door, so he managed to escape her first attack relatively unscathed. Then Misty rushed at them from the living room, barking wildly. Sam was sure they'd locked her up to keep her out of the way while they dealt with Dean. Misty was protection against ordinary threats like burglars. She was also helpful in identifying imposters like shape shifters and ghouls. The only thing she'd be able to do against Dean would be die.

Sam released Kate and scrambled away. He backed through the dining room entryway to give himself as much space as possible. He could handle either a werewolf or a dog, not both. He needed any advantage he could manage.

Sam pulled his gun. Over the past few weeks he'd become fond of Misty. She had the habit of napping on his feet during his long hours pouring over research in the office. And he and Kate made a good team when it came down to it. But with Victoria in labor and the other turmoil in the house, all bets were off.

Sam braced himself. He couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger just yet. The memory of Misty's tongue on his fingers as he fed her scraps under the table when Victoria wasn't looking just a few hours ago at breakfast was too strong.

But Sam wasn't Misty's target.

Kate pivoted just in time to evade the dog's attack. Sam retreated farther into the dining room to avoid the flashing teeth and slashing claws. The exchange only lasted two or three seconds, but as Sam watched, gun pulled and not knowing which side to step in on, it felt interminable.

A piercing whistle cut through the snarls and growls. “Hey!” Sam caught sight of Sera emerging from the living room on the other side of the melee.

Kate and Misty backed away from each other. Misty's hackles were still up and Kate's teeth bared, but they seemed to be coming to a truce.

“Thought you might need a hand coming back to yourself,” Sera said to Kate. Kate growled at her, but was already starting to shift back to human. Misty stopped growling and shook herself, droplets of saliva flying from her jowls. Once done, she panted and watched them, for all the world like nothing unusual had happened and was waiting to see if one of them would take her for a walk. Miraculously, neither Kate nor the dog seemed to be bleeding from the scuffle.

Kate nodded acknowledgment to Sera, who returned the gesture. “Not the first time I've dealt with werewolves at pupping time.” She turned to Sam. “Speaking of which, where's our girl?”

Sam didn't bother answering, he just headed for the basement. He led the way past exercise equipment to the demon room. Victoria opened the door as he reached for the knob. He glimpsed Crowley through the opening before she stepped through and shut the door behind her.

“You summoned him into the house?” Sam demanded. After their debate about summoning Crowley, she'd done exactly what she'd argued against.

“I half hoped it'd bring Sera with him, but I didn't count on it.” She didn't seem to notice his ire. That or she was ignoring it. “Did you get her?”

“I'm here,” Sera answered from behind him. She brushed past him to get a good look at Victoria. “Let's get you upstairs and see where we are.”

Victoria caught Sam's eye and pointed her thumb back at the closed door. “He said to tell you that Dean was the one to lead him to Cain, not the other way around. Do you know what he's talking about?”

Sam's anger evaporated like a puddle in the Bad Lands. “Dean found Cain?” he asked. Victoria nodded confirmation. “Alright, yeah. There's only one thing Dean has that Crowley can't get.”

John's journal was in the office. The answer could be right there in the house. He was through the exercise room and taking the stairs two at a time before Sera's loud cough stopped him. He turned back to them. Victoria was moving pretty slow and looked run down. “Right,” he said a little sheepishly. “We need to get you situated first.”

After only a few short weeks with her, he was already well aware that she hated when he hoovered. Nonetheless, he did just that until they got her into her bed on the second floor. Once she was safely ensconced, he promptly disappeared to the office to search John's journal for whatever clue Crowley wanted him to find.

**********

When Sam emerged from the office, he found Victoria, still hugely pregnant, standing in the dark at the dining room window watching Dean through the glass. Sunset had come and gone as he searched John's journal. She must have turned on the porch light because Dean's figure was illuminated by the warm glow of man-made light.

Dean's voice was muffled through the latest, greatest, multi-layer, weather-proof glass panes. “We're made for each other, Victoria. You're as twisted as I am.”

“Can he see us?” Sam asked softly, stopping just behind her.

She shook her head. “Not through the wards. But he knows I'm here.”

“You're practically a demon already. Be my Queen and I'll let you torture the other demons to your heart's content.” Dean's voice dropped to a seductive purr. “I know you enjoy it. The torture.”

“Why are you listening to him?” Sam asked.

Dean put his hand to the glass, his skin sizzling against the warded pane.

Victoria didn't take her eyes off the demon before them. “It's not him, Sammy,” she whispered. If he didn't know better, he would have thought it sounded like she was afraid to say it out loud.

“Of course it's him,” Sam responded. It had to be Dean. It wore Dean's body. It had Dean's memories. If it wasn't Dean... Sam refused to think about the consequences if the demon before them was something other than a curable, redeemable Dean.

Victoria shook her head. “Our Dean withstood Hell's best interrogator for decades without becoming twisted. This monster isn't Dean. It's something else. Something weaker. Broken.”

Sam remembered Dean after he came back from Hell. Whole and hale wouldn't have been the words he used to describe the man that emerged. Dean was a man who could only sleep by drinking his way there. A man who always left his boots on, even on his way to his nightly unconscious stupor.

Victoria leaned back into him, her eyes still fixed on Dean. “You talk to Crowley yet?” she asked. Sam was pretty sure she was just trying to drown out Dean, who was now talking about how she'd been born to rule Hell in the blood of her former fiance. He wasn't sure what Dean was talking about, but figured it had to do with how Victoria became a hunter.

“Not yet,” Sam replied. He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her away from the window. She let herself be led to the next room. “Shouldn't you be...” He wasn't exactly sure what she should be doing. “...laying down?”

Sera looked up from her conversation with Kate as Sam and Victoria entered the living room. Kate held a bag of frozen peas to her bruised cheek.

Victoria's lip curved with the hint of a smile. “If you can make a baby in a position, you can have a baby in that position.”

Sam guessed it was good that she hadn't lost her sense of humor. He looked to Sera for guidance. She looked down at the table, smiling to herself, and refused to be helpful. Scowling wasn't getting him anywhere, so he tried the puppy dog eyes.

Victoria took pity on him and gave a real answer. “First kid usually takes six to eight hours, if not longer. We're already well into 'longer.' I heard walking sometimes helps.”

She hadn't been doing much walking when Sam found her, unless she'd found a way to walk while standing still. Sam looked back to Sera. “It won't kill her,” Sera contributed.

Sam rolled his eyes. “How comforting,” he grumbled. He missed Dean with a pang so sharp it felt like a knife. Dean would have charmed both women and had them answering questions he hadn't even asked. Sam would break out the puppy-dog eyes again, but from past experience Sera was immune.

“What'd you find in the journal?” Victoria asked.

There had only been one reference that had the potential to be helpful when Dean and Crowley went looking for the blade. It was pretty vague. “No much.” He shrugged. “Just a reference to Abaddon with a letter next to it and the code for one of Dad's storage lockers.” He left Victoria leaning against the door jamb and crossed the room to sit on the arm of the vacant sofa opposite Sera and Kate. “Dean already told me they got a lead at a pawn shop. The storage locker probably led them there. Looks like Crowley is leading us down blind alleys and wasting time.”

Kate lowered the bag of veggies and tossed it on the coffee table. “What'd they find at the pawn shop?” she asked.

“Some kind of location spell. Dean didn't really say. I found the shop a while back, but someone killed the owner and destroyed the building.” Sam rubbed his hand along his thigh, fidgeting. This was the worst possible time for it, but he had to bring it up. “I think we should try to cure Dean now,” he said.

He watched Victoria closely, hoping to catch her eye. She nodded slowly, not looking at him.

“Him showing up solves one of our biggest problems,” he continued. They hadn't been able to find the location spell Dean and Crowley had used and none of the books they'd searched had a summoning spell for Cain or his Mark. Their best option to date was to lure Dean out using Sam as bait. “Vic, he's _right here_.” He was so close Sam could open the door and touch him.

“Okay, Sam.”

“Okay?” Sam expected her to put up a fight. After months pouring over musty old books, worrying that every day was taking Dean further away from him, she was just going to agree? “That's it?”

She nodded and looked him in the eye. “You're right, now is a good time. Where are we going to put him?”

Sam was about to suggest the Devil's Trap in the basement, then remembered it was already occupied. There was no secondary interrogation room. Then there was the problem of even getting Dean into the house. They'd have to compromise the wards on the house to get him past the walls. They couldn't summon him into a trap the way they had with Crowley.

If he could figure out how to do it, he could use one of the traps on the doors. The main door would probably be best, it had the most space to tie Dean down for the hours it would take to complete the cure. But Dean had told Sam about Cain's powers. While Dean hadn't had nearly as much time to come into the power as Cain had, he'd been in Hell for months. Which was decades down there. There was no telling what Dean was capable of. Did he really want to back Dean into a corner and challenge him to find a way to break the protections?

Sam looked back to Victoria in anguish. There was pity in her eyes. Apparently, she'd thought of the same problems as him. “We don't know when we'll get another chance like this,” he protested.

“He thinks we're having a family. He'll come to torment you. We'll get so many opportunities you'll get sick of seeing him.”

Sam dragged his hand through his hair. “Alright, fine.” He might not be able to fix Dean right now, but there was something he could do to get closer to it. “I'll be in the basement.”

**********

“Jolly Green,” Crowley greeted him. “Where's the hospitality?” He spread his arms, taking in the empty room. “Last time I got a chair.” Crowley looked around. “And a desk.”

Sam pulled the interrogation chair over. “And pretty, pretty bracelets with a matching neck cuff,” Sam retorted, deliberating placing the chair on the floor in front of him. He pulled the Knife of the Kurds from his belt and placed it on the chair. “What'd you do to my brother?”

“Me?” Crowley twisted his face into his patented semblance of sincere innocence. “Everything done to Dean, he did himself.”

Sam was so angry, his vision darkened, narrowing on Crowley. He slammed into the demon, his full weight and momentum careening them into the wall of the Devil's Trap. Sam would have passed straight through the empty air, but Crowley couldn't pass the edge. The air whooshed from Crowley's lungs as Sam slammed into him.

“Who am I to break up Moose and Squirrel?” Crowley wheezed. “I already told Victoria I had nothing to do with it. Don't the proud parents-to-be talk?” His breathing normalized. He lowered his voice as if trying to inspire Sam to confide in him. “Trouble in paradise?”

Sam slid his forearm up to Crowley's collarbone, threateningly close to his windpipe. “Start with the Mark of Cain,” Sam instructed.

“You must know more about it than I do by now.” Crowley's voice was even and steady. Damn him and his cool composure. Sam wanted him to quake and show fear. “Or perhaps you decided it would be easier to replace Dean that get him back. Again.” Sam released Crowley and retreated, hiding his flush. The vessel Crowley inhabited was incongruously small and unassuming to house such a conniving monster. “You two do have a tumultuous past.”

Sam hadn't replaced Dean. No one could replace Dean. Not Bobby when he'd been alive, not Cas, not Ruby or Amelia. Not even Jess or the ringing silence he fled to could reach as far inside Sam as Dean did. John had stuck them together before Sam could remember any different, and there was no going back.

Sam pulled the interrogation chair into the Devil's Trap. He closed on Crowley. “You're going to tell me everything you know about the Mark of Cain and what Dean is capable of.”

**********

Victoria looked up as Sam entered the office. He poured himself two fingers of whiskey and sank onto the couch beside her. She raised an eyebrow “Anything?” she asked.

Sam shook his head. “Enough that I don't think he can help us find Cain.” He downed the whiskey. “But I've got a pretty good idea of what Dean has been up to.”

Victoria squirmed uncomfortably. “I'm not convinced Crowley's on the up and up.”

Sam watched her fidget as she tried to find a comfortable position. His gaze softened sympathetically. He leaned back and raised an arm. “Come here.”

Victoria squirmed around and they settled into a position that can only be described as cuddling. Victoria was situated between his legs, her back resting against his torso. Sam's legs extended out, bracketing her body.

While cooped up in the house together the time of day had started to only matter in relation to when Victoria made business calls. It was through their odd hours that Sam discovered Victoria was having trouble sleeping because she couldn't get comfortable. After much trial and error, and more than a little awkwardness, they discovered she slept easily like this.

Sam suspected she pretended he was Dean. He didn't mind. He pretended she was Jessica.

Sam put his hand to her abdomen, stroking the fabric over the taught flesh. Victoria sighed and closed her eyes. He listened to her breathing deepen and slow, letting the warmth of her body and the peace of her breathing fight the fear that had settled under his skin.

Before talking with Crowley, Sam had believed Dean was like Meg. Twisted, but given the right motivation, Sam truly believed Dean would come back to him. Now that he knew some of the things Dean had done, he wasn't so sure. He was afraid Victoria was right. That the thing standing outside the walls, tormenting them and whispering poison, wasn't Dean.

Victoria's abdominal muscles rippled under his hand, the contraction pulling him from his dark thoughts and waking her from a light doze. When it passed she sighed. “I'm so tired.” The sun was cresting the horizon, she'd been in labor for over twenty hours.

Sera murmured agreement from the doorway. “Been going on a while now. If the baby doesn't come soon, we're going to have to get you to a hospital.”

Sam looked down at Victoria's hair. If he couldn't save his brother, he had to save Dean's child. “I think we better work on a plan to get her there,” Sam said.

**********

Victoria collapsed in on herself, head pressed against the table. When the contraction passed she went boneless with relief, sprawled in the chair. The baby still wasn't coming.

Sam shared a worried look with Kate and Sera. All their plans to get Victoria past Dean sucked. Every single one of them counted on Dean having forgotten everything he knew as a hunter. As if becoming the King of Hell had made him dumber.

“It's like she knows what's waiting out here for her,” Victoria grumbled.

Sera gave her a sharp look. “You're fighting it, aren't you?” she accused.

“Of course not,” Victoria was too tired to sound properly offended, but she gave it a go.

“I should have seen it before. Stop fighting it girl,” Sera commanded.

“It's a baby,” Victoria snapped. “It comes when it comes.”

Sera pointed a finger at her. “Its been trying to come for hours. But Daddy's got you flustered.”

Victoria glared at Sera. Apparently she found a reserve of energy somewhere, because Sam hadn't seen a look that malicious since his own time in Hell.

“So she's the spawn of a devil. Push her out girl, the world can take it,” Sera snapped.

“Go to Hell,” Victoria countered.

“I think quite enough people in this house have been there.” Sera switched tracks. She came up behind Victoria, who tensed. Sera started to massage her shoulders. “The child was made in love. You told me yourself how much you loved him once upon a time.” Victoria's head drooped forward to better take advantage of the massage. She rolled her shoulders, helping loosen the knots. “Don't let the product of such love be destroyed by hate and pig-headedness.”

Sera gave Sam a meaningful look and nodded down at Victoria. Sam pulled his chair next to them and picked up Victoria's hand. He started with her palm, kneading the fleshy parts of her hand. He worked her fingers, giving each digit his full attention before starting on her forearm.

Sam didn't listen to Sera's words. He concentrated on Victoria, letting Sera's calming tone relax them both. He got through both arms up to the elbow before Sera steered all four of them to the bedroom. The contractions were finally getting closer together. Sam hoped this was a good sign.

Sera settled Victoria on the bed and indicated Sam should sit by Victoria's head. Kate hovered in the doorway, ready to fetch anything Sera needed. Sam perched beside Victoria and let her grip his hand. He'd had every bone in his hand broken at one time or another and a fingernail or two pulled, surely he could handle this.

Sera hovered between Victoria's knees. “That's right, Victoria. Just relax,” Sera encouraged.

Victoria's moan was something between a whimper and a growl. Her hand tightened around Sam's in a vice-like grip. Sam tightened his own hand, using his muscles to take some of the strain, but still, _Fuck_.

Victoria's whine of pain intensified, sliding into a scream as she gave in to the process. Her voice settled at a pitch that reminded Sam of the time Dean had ghost sickness.

“I see the head,” Sera crowed, as if she were the one pushing the baby out. “Okay, rest a minute.”

Victoria stopped pushing and simply lay panting. Sam worked some feeling back into his fingers. He wasn't sure it was a good idea, he should probably just let it go numb, but he couldn't help himself.

“Still alive in there?” Dean called into the silence.

“Fuck off, Princess!” Victoria shouted back. She grunted and started pushing again.

Sera gave a running commentary on the progress of the baby. Head. Shoulders. Finally the baby was out. Sera tied off the still pulsing umbilical cord and snipped it off.

Victoria lay back and closed her eyes. “ _Fuck_ ,” she sighed. Sam didn't blame her. His hand hurt and he'd only been clinching it for a few minutes. Her entire body had been clamped down and wrenched for nearly a full day. He slipped his hand from her limp grip and shook it out.

“Here.” Sera handed him the wiped down and swaddled baby. “Hold this.”

Sam took the baby awkwardly.

Sera returned to the foot of the bed. “Afterbirth should be along shortly.”

Sam looked at the baby in shock. After living with the concept of her, she was finally here. A tiny, living, breathing little human that was dwarfed in his massive arms. His gaze slid from the baby to her mother. Victoria looked wasted. She was pale and sallow, dark shadowy bruises standing out starkly under her eyes. She gave him a little smile and her hand fluttered toward him.

Sam settled the baby more securely in his arms and tipped her down so Victoria could see. When he looked back at the baby, she stared up at him with her mother's blue, blue eyes.

When the afterbirth came, it came in a rush of bright red blood. It reminded Sam of the arterial bleeding of a fatal wound.

“Is that normal?” he asked. He tried to keep his voice calm to avoid worrying Victoria, but was pretty sure he fell short of the mark.

Sera grunted in response and moved to Victoria's side. She massaged the outside of Victoria's uterus, but the blood continued to flow.

“Give her the baby,” Sera instructed. “Vic, try to feed her.” Sera moved away from them.

Victoria looked ashen and waxy as Sam handed her the precious little bundle. He pushed away his discomfort and helped steady the baby because Victoria was frighteningly weak. Between the two of them, they got her positioned and suckling.

Sera returned with a syringe, which she gave to Victoria without preamble. “Kate,” she called. The young werewolf came to attention immediately. “Go get water and salt.” Kate disappeared down the hall so fast Sam was sure the words were still chasing her on the air.

“What's that for?” Sam asked. He felt lost and adrift. He was usually an expert when it came to blood and internal organs, but now he had no idea what was going on.

“She's lost a lot of blood. We're going to perk her back up. Plump up her veins with a little liquid.” Sera flashed them a grin, but it was tense and worried.

 


	4. The Deathly Quiet

Dean stood at the window. His back was to her, but she knew it was him from the set of his shoulders and the cut of his hair. The way he held himself and his distinctive bow legs.

Sam had done it. While she rested, Sam had captured and cured Dean.

Dean turned to her. He held the baby in his arms. Awe and panic were written across his face in equal measure. But above it all, she saw unconditional love shining from his eyes. He looked up and turned her the most pure smile she'd ever seen. It was like dawn breaking after a long and wearying eternity of grey lifeless days.

**********

“Here, Vic.” Something cold and wet pressed against her lips. “Drink this.” Sera tipped salty water down her throat.

Victoria spluttered and choked on the concoction, but started greedily sucking it down when she realized how thirsty she was.

“Good girl.” When Victoria finished the glass Sera got up and walked away.

Victoria looked back to the window. Without Dean nothing seemed worth it. The normal life she'd fought so hard for, the business, the baby. None of it was any fun without him.

“She won't stop bleeding,” Sera whispered to Sam. “She needs a hospital.”

The baby would be fine without her. Sam would take care of it. He and Dean would be fine, or they'd find someone else to do it for them. If worst came to worst, there was no way that Castiel would let a child of Dean's grow up in a household filled with anything but love.

“Sam.” Her voice was quieter than she'd intended. She tried to sit up, but found herself startlingly weak. It didn't matter, it just made her plan more likely to succeed. “Sam,” she tried again with more positive results. They both turned to her. She held out her hand. “Help me up.”

He looked down at her like she was stupid. “No.”

She gestured impatiently, but even that was weak and shaky. “C'mon Sam. I'll get you your chance at Dean. Just get me to the door.”

Understanding dawned. “No,” he refused. “Victoria, I'm not putting you up against Dean when you're dying. You're going to the hospital. We'll call Cas. He'll get you there in time.”

“It's not enough.” She rolled off the bed, barely managing to keep her feet long enough for Sam to catch her. “Help me. It's time for the emergency plan.”

He looked down at her, hope, refusal, and guilt warring in his gaze. She knew in his head he thought she was more important for the baby than Dean. But in his heart, he wanted Dean back more than anything.

She insisted on changing into something a little less soiled. She wanted jeans, but Sera pointed out that they'd just cut them off her at the ER. She settled for a loose, flowing skirt and a blouse that draped her filled out curves. They dressed her like a doll, she was too weak to help.

Sam all but carried her to the door.

“Have Cas ready,” she said. If she succeeded, she wanted to live to see it. Sam nodded. He was such a serious type.

Victoria managed to hold herself upright just long enough to step onto the porch before falling to her knees. She sagged onto her hip, then supported her upper body with arms pressed to the sun warmed wood.

Dean straightened up from peering through a window. He sauntered over and stopped a good distance from the outer edge of the Devil's Trap. He tilted his head as he considered her. “You're dying,” he said with a frown. She wanted to hear sadness and regret in his voice, so she did. “Would have been better if I'd killed you myself,” he mused.

Victoria snorted at the irony, the sound spasming through her pain-wracked body. He had killed her. If he hadn't taunted her the night and day she'd been in labor, the birth may have gone smoother. If she hadn't been hiding from his enemies, she may have already been in a hospital resting comfortably. If he hadn't knocked her up, the whole situation would have been avoided entirely.

Dean looked through the yawning hole in the house for some sign of those inside. He couldn't see Sam hidden just to the side of the door. “I'm sure it will eat Sam up, having his child being the thing that killed you. I can work with that.” He looked back down at her prone form. “How'd you talk him into letting you out here anyway?”

“I lied to him.” She couldn't see Sam either. Didn't really want to see his reaction to her words. Even she wasn't sure which of the brothers she was lying to. “I told him I had a plan. I gave him hope.” Dean squatted down. She looked up into his eyes and was caught in their candy apple green depths.

She remembered those eyes as his body pressed to hers. His words whispered up from her memory, _“You're so beautiful.”_

**********

_They'd been in the Impala. She couldn't remember why she was in the car. She so seldom rode in the Impala that it should stick out in her mind. But she only remembered that it was just the two of them out on the open highway._

_She stuck a cassette in the tape player. It was a stark white contrasted to the black tapes he usually fed it. She hooked the wire trailing from it into her iPod._

_Dean reached for the eject button. “Driver picks-”_

_Victoria slapped his hand away. “Keep your pants on.”_

_Dean threw her a nasty look. He returned his hand to the steering wheel and gripped it tight. She could see the muscles in his jaw twitch._

_“I think you'll like this.” She scrolled through the options. “It's a playlist of all the artists you like.” She tapped a final time and The Rolling Stones came over the speakers. “As a compromise, all the songs are ones I can stand.” She settled back into the seat. “Don't worry, Zeppelin’s on here too.”_

**********

“I've missed you,” she sighed.

“I've missed you too.” He smiled maliciously.

She took it at face value, ignoring the tone under the words. “I never stopped loving you.”

“I can definitely work with that.” The demon flashed its teeth. “You might just be the key to sending my brother straight to Hell.”

She ignored him, just kept talking as if she were appealing to the man he used to be. “Would you help me name the baby?” She let her exhaustion show, let it drain her voice so Dean had to move closer to hear. “It didn't seem right to do it without you.”

**********

_Victoria turned in the seat and started climbing into the back. Dean waited until her posterior was prominently displayed before commenting, “Nice view.”_

_She chuckled. “Thank you.”_

_He checked her out in the rearview mirror. “What are you doing?”_

_“Crawling into the back for a nap. You can put your old staticy tapes back on after I fall asleep.” She paused and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Unless you want to pull over and fool around.” She wiggled her butt enticingly._

_Dean's strong hand landed on her hip, his blunt fingers closing around her belt to steady her as they came to an abrupt halt. She had to give him credit, it may have been abrupt, but it was still smooth and controlled._

_“What are you doing?” she laughed._

_The engine was barely off when he tackled her and sent them both over the seat into the back of the car in a tangle of limbs and bodies. She was laughing too hard to help him sort them into any kind of order._

_Dean wrestled them into position, her on her back, him looking down at her. He smoothed a hand over her unruly curls, a look of surprised wonder on his face. “You're so beautiful.”_

_“You say that to every woman you tumble into bed with,” she chuckled. The look on his face more than compensating for the perceived repetition._

_He shrugged. “I only sleep with hot chicks.”_

_She tipped her head back and laughed a happy, uninhibited laugh. He leaned in and kissed the smile on her lips, wanting to taste her happiness._

**********

“Girl or boy?” Dean asked.

“We had a girl,” Victoria replied without thinking.

“Jessica,” he answered immediately. “Remind Sammy when the demons took control of his life.” He said it dismissively, as if his plan to turn his brother into a demon were nothing special. That Sam wouldn't be able to avoid it even if he knew that was Dean's goal.

Victoria felt uneasy. It had nothing to do with Dean, she'd quite successfully ignored his twisted words. It was something else. She felt like she'd said something she shouldn't. Something Dean shouldn't know.

Dean sidled closer to the line. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.” His voice was low and throaty. “To fuck into the bits of you that spent months growing a life and will now kill you. To plunge into the sticky sweetness of your death. I want to feel your lifeblood run over my body and taste your dying breath as it crosses your lips.”

**********

_Dean sat up suddenly, nearly braining himself on the roof of the Impala. “C'mere.” He pulled the handle behind him and slid out the door._

_Victoria followed him out of the car and around to where he stood in front of the open trunk. He pulled a duffel forward and opened it. Victoria saw a blanket and an assortment of food. Well, food by Dean's standards. Everything was plastic wrapped – the sandwiches, the individual sized pastries, the plastic silverware. Dean had put together a picnic._

_Victoria glanced up at him. He had the anxious expression of a child showing off a prized possession. She smiled reassuringly and kissed him on the lips. It was a chaste kiss._

_“You trying for brownie points?” she teased._

_He shrugged, uncharacteristically somber at her ribbing. “Girls like this kind of thing, right? I've never done it before. Never wanted to.”_

_She met his serious expression with one of her own. “Yes,” she told him and kissed him again._

**********

Dean dropped to a knee, leaning in as close as the Devil's Trap would let him. Before he could say whatever nasty thing he'd thought up, Victoria tangled her hand in the neck of his shirt and threw herself back. Her weakened grip nearly tore from the fabric, but she managed to hold on. His body sprawled across her legs. Before he could set himself straight, Cas was there, scooping her up. Then they were gone.

“No!” Dean pounded his open hand into the wooden slats of the porch.

Sam darted through the door and plunged a needle of his purified blood into his brother's neck. He skittered back and was safely inside the house before Dean's fingers could close over him.

Dean gathered himself on his hands and knees, laughing. It was with black eyes that he looked up at Sam. “You can't cure me that way Sammy.” The laughter ended as abruptly as it had started. Dean stood.

Sam had looked down at Dean from the advantage of his superior height for years now. But Dean seemed to loom over him and Sam felt smaller than he had since he was a kid. “I'm no regular demon, not constrained by the normal rules.” The house shook, the windows rattling in their panes. The floorboards beneath Dean splintered and Sam could hear the foundation crack. “I'll find her Sammy. Wherever Cas took her. I'll find her and kill her.” His eyes tracked the sound of the infant squalling in the house. “Sounds like you have your own business to attend to.” He flashed that evil smile. “Enjoy her while you can. I'll take this Jessica from you too.” Then Dean was gone.

**********

Victoria woke in the hospital feeling much closer to the land of the living than that of the dead. She couldn't believe she'd taken on Dean in such a weakened state. She chalked up her poor decision making to delirium and blood loss.

Unfortunately, her gambit hadn't paid off. She recalled Cas waking her earlier, but she was still pretty disoriented from her brush with death and the hospital staff had drugged her heavily. All she remember from that conversation was that Dean had escaped and taken Crowley with him. Then came the searing pain as Cas branded her ribs with Enochian script. She was pretty sure she'd passed back out at that point.

Sam had brought the baby to the hospital. He stood with his back to her holding the newborn. The sunlight was so strong behind him that for a moment, she could pretend he was Dean. She'd regained enough of her strength that she realized her earlier vision of Dean holding the baby was a hallucination brought about by exhaustion and blood loss.

Sam shifted and the moment was gone. He looked at her with love and awe lingering in his gaze. “What should we name her?” His voice was nearly a whisper as he tried not to disturb the infant.

They'd been avoiding it. She hadn't been lying when she'd told the demon it didn't seem right to pick a name without Dean. But now that the baby was here, they needed something to put on the birth certificate.

“Mary?” Victoria suggested. Neither of the boys had known their mom for long, but Victoria knew Dean missed her with a fierce ache that would never fully go away. Maybe having a daughter to dote on would help mend that old heart-wound.

Sam shook his head. “No point inviting trouble.” He said it with regret and a finality that spoke volumes. Victoria wished she could give back the childhood that had been denied him. Wished there was something she could do to counter the hurt started by a demon before either of them was born. But from her own experience, she knew there were some wounds that gave you the strength to do what was necessary. Sam's childhood had been sacrificed to allow him to derail a plot Lucifer spent decades, if not millennium, putting in motion. Now, that same sacrifice would give Sam the edge he needed to save his brother. “What about your mom?” Sam asked.

“Alive and in no need of a memorial.” The idea of naming a baby after a living relative made Victoria uncomfortable. She wasn't ready to admit that her mother would be gone one day.

“Henrietta? The last Winchester to officially belong to the Men of Letters was Henry.”

Victoria didn't like it. It sounded like they were trying too hard. It was obviously based on Henry, but the 'etta' made it too girly for Victoria's taste. On top of which, it may have been a perfectly normal name in France, but in the US the poor kid would get made fun of endlessly.

Sam chuckled. Victoria looked sheepishly up at him, her distaste must have shown clearly on her face to produce that kind of laugh. “Okay, not Henrietta. What about your grandparents?”

Victoria had to think for a second to come up with the given names of her grandmothers. When she remembered, she smiled. “Margaret and Marjorie.”

“You're kidding,” Sam replied.

Victoria chuckled and shook her head. “Nope. Margaret Elanor and Marjorie Ellen.”

Sam looked down at the baby. Although the tiny infant would have fit in a single hand, he used both arms to cradle her. “Maggie,” he said. She stirred in his arms, blinking up at him. She yawned, then her eyes drifted closed again.

Victoria mulled it over. She liked it. It was a good, sturdy name with lots of history on her side of the family. She wondered if Dean would like it. “Maggie Deanna,” Victoria added.

Sam pursed his lips in disapproval. “He's not dead. He doesn't need a memorial any more than your mom.”

Victoria shook her head. Sam had misunderstood her. “He's not dead,” she agreed. Then clarified, “But she'll be her father's daughter, I'm sure of it.” It also gave her ties to the Winchester family, not just her father, but Mary's mother too. It felt right and there was no way Sam was going to talk her out of it.

Sam rocked Maggie, gently swaying his full 6'5” frame. It made her sad that Sam wouldn't see them again until the situation with Dean had been resolved. She wanted to help get Dean back, but there was no changing it. Victoria and Maggie couldn't stay in a house with Dean knowing they were there. She was going to have to take Maggie and run. She couldn't let Sam know where they were going either, just in case Dean got the upper hand.

“I'll miss you, Sam,” she said. He looked back at her with a puzzled expression. “Time for each of us to do what we do best. I'll protect Maggie, you go fix her daddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all she wrote folks. If you love it and want more, let me know. I was playing with some ideas for a second part and might be convinced to actually plot it out.


End file.
